


The El Moley Rachamim

by Sian265



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Loss, Prompt Funeral, Saddness, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 09:50:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21269081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sian265/pseuds/Sian265
Summary: Simon would rather say goodbye forever than have his memory be that of a monster.





	The El Moley Rachamim

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [sh_ficletinstruments](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/sh_ficletinstruments) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> It's not every day that you gatecrash your own funeral, but it is today.

_Isabelle, will you go somewhere with me?_

They moved silently among the graves and crypts, coming as close as they dared. Crouching behind a large tombstone, Simon watched his own funeral. His eyes moved over the large gathering, somewhat surprised that so many showed up to mourn him. Simon wondered what they all would say if they knew, the coffin before them was empty. Did his mom tell anyone there had been nothing left after the ‘accident’ to bury?

It was a traditional Jewish funeral, so no flowers, and more importantly, no viewing of his body. His eyes drifted over the mourners. There was his third grade teacher, he couldn’t recall her name. Maureen was also present, and he felt a stab of guilt at the tears rolling down her face. Simon hadn’t been fair to her in life so why should death be any different. Simon looked at his sister, standing so strong next to his mom, _no he couldn’t think about her yet_. Izzy placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Becky was pale, her stint in the hospital still visible. She too, had tears on her face, and Simon wondered what she was mourning. Becky knew his secret now, knew about the Shadowworld.

“Tell me what’s happening now, Simon.” Izzy whispered.

Simon didn’t need to, but he took a deep breath anyway, it caught in his too tight chest. “They are reading the psalms, and then people will start my hesped, or eulogy. The rabbi will lead them in the El Moley Rachamim, or closing prayer. One by one they will each pick up a shovel and toss dirt in my grave.” He couldn’t look at Izzy as he recited the Jewish funeral traditions.

His gaze drifted finally to his mom, Elaine. Simon didn’t realize it but the tears flowing down his face matched the ones flowing down his moms. Becky told him that after the funeral, they were moving to Florida. His mom didn’t want to stay in New York any longer, she said all it held now were bad memories and loss. Simon would never again hear her call him monkey. He’d never enjoy her pot roast, have her tell him embarrassing stories about her college days. Simon would never again have his mother tuck him in with a kiss on his forehead, no matter how old he got, she had every night without fail tucked her son in.

He’d make the same choice again, have her grieve now rather than call him a monster. He wanted, no needed her to remember him as her little boy not the nightmare that had fed on his own sister. Simon knew she would heal from this loss, but he would never heal from her words when she discovered what Simon had become. Better to be dead and loved than this thing he was now and be hated. Simon wanted forever to be her monkey.

The closing prayer began, “Goodbye, Mom.” Simon whispered.


End file.
